


Stay Away

by luucarii



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M, Set during Chapter 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 20:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14457315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luucarii/pseuds/luucarii
Summary: Nagito was someone Hajime himself said he should never underestimate but the way he was at the moment was something he never expected.





	Stay Away

**Author's Note:**

> Y'know I've been doing my damnedest to avoid writing komahina (even if it is *slight* in this fic) since I'm still not even 100% confident in my ability to accurately write Nagito's character but oh well. 
> 
> Ideas like this happen when you're trying to nap in second period biology!

Hajime didn’t know whether it was the paranoia or the lingering voices in the back of his mind (probably caused _by_ the paranoia) that told him to look in the warehouse one more time. Fuyuhiko and the others were still searching desperately for the supposed bomb Nagito hid somewhere on the island. The fifth island was left for Fuyuhiko to search and although Hajime trusted him, he couldn’t help feeling there was something else there that he had missed on the very first visit to the island. He was usually one to overthink things but most of the time, especially on Jabberwock, his thoroughness was helpful.

 

The warehouse was the most suspicious place to him. He and Chiaki had barely managed to check it out before running away from an irritated Monokuma and Monomi. It seemed to be an empty warehouse at first glance but surely there could have been _something_ hidden inside he couldn’t see.

 

As Hajime closed in on the warehouse, he noticed the door was open, granted it was only noticeable on close inspection. There was a slight rasp of music coming from the open space and Hajime strained his ears to hear what was playing. It was a low, creepy piano and the sound alone was enough to make his pulse quicken. He opened the door wide enough for him to slip in. Hajime noticed first how dark the room was. Through the light from the outside, he could see how there were dozens of Monokuma standees lined up like dominoes and how the music was set to play at such an infuriating volume. A large black curtain was set up, cutting off the other side of the warehouse and Hajime knew for a fact the room was set up differently than how it was when he first visited it with Chiaki.

 

Just what the hell was going on?

 

A small lighter was lit just a few inches away from where Hajime had opened the door and a part of him was grateful for his wariness. He was careful with his steps as he walked to the far back of the warehouse and poked his head through the black curtain.

 

His heart nearly stopped.

 

“Ah, so I’ve been found out. How unfortunate.”

 

Hajime knew well enough by this point that Nagito Komaeda was insane, hell maybe even somewhat psychotic sometimes. His constant ramblings on hope and despair and how he would willingly become a stepping stone for the supposed Ultimate Hope. He mentioned more than a few times how he wished he could be killed in the killing game to assist in creating that hope. Honestly it was a surprise to Hajime that he lasted this long, with only seven students left.

 

As crazy as he was, Hajime couldn’t doubt that he was smart. If not for him, they all probably would’ve died in past last class trials —Gundham’s case had Nagito who was the only one who ever stepped a foot inside the Final Dead Room aside from the blackened himself.

 

Nagito was someone Hajime himself said he should never underestimate but the fact that he was laying on the ground, hands and legs bound by rope with bloody slits down his thighs and a knife through his left hand was still something he never expected. His right hand, held a thin cord that connected to a hanging lance in the air, his mouth was covered with tape and his eyes seemed to flutter, desperate to stay open.

 

“...What the hell is this?”

 

Nagito’s voice came out as a muffled rasp under the tape. “I miscalculated.”

 

He sighed and shifted his head to face Hajime. His face was as pale as it usually was but a few drips of sweat ran down the side of his forehead. Hajime managed to find his breath and slowly stepped over to him, leaning down to rip the tape off of his mouth.

 

“What...happened to you?”

 

Nagito’s lips pressed tightly together. He didn’t say a word but his glossy eyes spoke more than any words could. He wanted Hajime to leave, _now_. Hajime kneeled down beside him and slowly began to untie the rope on his ankles.

 

“You’re bleeding pretty bad. We don’t have Mikan anymore but I could probably make due with whatever we have at the hospital.” He muttered to himself ignoring the way Nagito attempted to squirm in protest.

 

“Hajime. Don’t you have a bomb to look for? You’re wasting your time.” Nagito’s voice faltered but it held nothing but harsh seriousness.

 

Hajime nearly stopped right then and there. His teeth clenched but he forced himself to continue. Nagito was the one that set the bomb and he could question him as much as he wanted when he was free.

 

If it wasn’t too late that is.

 

“Just shut up. If you’re gonna talk, at least talk about the bomb and where you hid it.”

 

As Hajime expected, Nagito kept his mouth shut but he seemed unwillingly to wiggle out of the ropes. They were probably from the supermarket, as was probably the knife dug in Nagito’s hand. He had no time to worry about where the supplies came from or who tied him down and tortured him to near death, he just needed to get Nagito free and get the answers he needed.

 

Once his legs were free, Hajime crawled over to where Nagito’s left hand was. The sight of the jagged knife stabbed directly into his palm made Hajime shudder. The blood was fresh and it seemed to dirty his hand and wrist more than the rope burn. Nagito’s head was shifted onto his side but when Hajime began to undo the rope on his left wrist, he couldn’t help but wince just slightly.

 

“Come on. It’s better if you tell me now before Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi get your hands on you.”

 

“I guess this time I didn’t get lucky.” Nagito mused amidst a chuckle.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Everything’s set up in the factory. The ‘bomb’ and a little message from me, if everything was to work out as it should’ve.” Nagito turned his head, his eyes fluttered but they centered on Hajime, “I relied too much on this disgusting talent of mine.”

 

As it always was whenever Hajime talked to Nagito, he was both annoyed and completely lost, but he let him talk without interrupting, just so he could at least understand a little of what was going on.

 

“I had a means of saving all of us from the traitor and _you_ just ruined it, Hajime.”

 

Hajime bit back a hiss, “don’t mess with me. We already know there is no traitor.”

 

Nagito gritted his teeth as he felt his left wrist loosen up. Hajime leaned over to reach for Nagito’s bound right hand and noticed the way his grip tightened on the cord. Nagito’s eyes flashed with warning and his voice came out a weak growl.

 

“Hajime, please. Leave.”

 

Hajime ignored him and tugged on the rope until it loosened. With the way he was, Hajime was directly atop him and directly below the sharp lance dangling from the ceiling. Nagito wanted to push him aside but he had lost so much blood at this point it was a wonder he was still conscious. He hissed out whatever warning he could manage but it wasn’t long until speaking was enough to drain most of his energy. Hajime had finally untied the last piece of rope and was moving to swat the cord out of his hand. Nagito urged his body to move and drag himself and Hajime away from the dangling lance but his strength slipped from him in a single second and gone went the cord from his hand.

 

Everything happened so fast. Nagito couldn’t move even if he wanted to, his body went slack, vision blurry, but he knew without a doubt that the lance had pierced through both Hajime and a little bit of himself. There was a sharp inhale followed by what was an attempted scream before it was drowned out by silent curses. Hajime’s voice was distant but Nagito could still hear it. He was panting, occasionally coughing up blood as he turned his head slowly to face Nagito. Yellow eyes were wide, lost, _terrified._

 

Nagito couldn’t speak. The sight made his stomach turn and his vision blurred even more with the tears creasing at his eyes before the world blackened entirely.

 

Hajime watched Nagito’s head go limp and he scoffed to himself. Earlier in this mess of a killing game, Nagito mentioned how he would’ve hated dying alone from his illness. Granted he said he quoted it from a book but somehow Hajime believe he meant it. Hajime let his head rest against Nagito’s chest as he tried to make himself as comfortable as possible.

 

Maybe he didn’t die from his illness but at least he didn’t die alone.

 

For that, Hajime was glad. And it made him feel a little better that he wouldn’t die alone either.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Nagito, you fuck.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
